Siege of my Homeland
by The Moyashi Beansprout Midget
Summary: Redford Mustang is the under-whelming great-grandson of Roy Mustang, one of the greatest leaders in the war against Dracreis. He signs up for a special mission and is given the task of finding and bringing back the descendant of the lost Fullmetal Alchemist. Meanwhile, Trisha Dawson is a normal girl in our world being targeted by strange alchemists. What happens when the two meet?
1. Prologue

"Are you insane?"

There was a large slam, followed shortly by flying papers and a spinning chair. A surprised man stood with a furrowed brow, staring straight ahead at the young boy who sat on the opposite side of his desk.

"N-No sir!" the boy exclaimed, trying to keep his nerves under control as he responded. He remained in his seat, almost ready to squirm. It was obvious he was nervous, and the man's outburst hadn't helped him calm down. "A-As I said, Vice General Ashton, I am willing to volunteer for the mission to-"

"I heard you the first time, boy!" the fuming man, Vice General Ashton yells, his hand balling up and slamming back onto his desk.

An older man, the Vice General was almost over the hill in age, the wrinkles on his forehead obvious with his anger. Course, they sat everywhere across his face, exaggerated when angry, but they came not from age but from experience on the battlefront. Ashton, to date, had gone through at least seventy confirmed battles with enemy, with victories out numbering losses. In return, he'd lost many men equal to how many hours he was kept up each night. He lost as many friends equal to how many years he'd been enlisted.

Yet, despite all of the things he'd been through, Ashton came forth as a notable leader with lots of respect from the others enlisted for his mental perseverance and bravery. With that experience, the Alliance had named him one of the highest ranking men, and the head of one of the seven branches.

But, what this boy, this simple low-level squad leader, was even volunteering for was something Ashton would have never done, even with his courage and experience. It was almost a suicide mission; in fact, that was sole reason why nobody had bothered to do it.

"Sir, I know I wouldn't be your first choice for this, but, I really think I can do It." the boy on the other side of Ashton's desk confirmed, his fingers interlaced with one another. His right foot taps steadily against the floor, echoing through the room.

Ashton frowns, taking his seat and composing himself. With a deep breath, he tried to look at the boy's request with a reasonable head. He had to put his request equal to everyone else, despite his heritage and skill-sets. And, the obvious of it being his ONLY request to take on the mission.

"Squad Leader," Ashton finally spoke softly. "Redford, you're only a Squad Leader. You're barely even in the system…"

The boy, Redford, gives a simple nod. The innocence in his eyes was apparent, despite his growing number of deployments on the current battlefront. At his age, he shouldn't have been in as many battles as he had. Maybe it was his talented squadron which he was supposed to lead. Maybe it was his perseverance that seemed to come with his many failures. Or maybe...it was just the name.

"Yes, and I know you wanted a Colonel or even a General," Redford replies, his eyes darting around nervously, unable to keep still. He still hadn't relaxed. "But...I still wish to volunteer. No one else has, after all."

Ashton let out a sigh, running his fingers through his graying hair. The boy had a terribly-obvious point; no one, not even any of the other Vice Generals, had bothered to volunteer. All of the Vice Generals agreed to not force someone to participate in this mission; it wasn't fair. It's been two months now, and not a single person throughout the Alliance had dared to step forward. Now someone had; but it just had to be him.

Looking back at Redford from across his desk, the middle-aged man paused. Redford was young; he had just turned fifteen only days earlier. His hair was a disheveled mess of his namesake dark red, pulled into the smallest ponytail possible at the nape of his neck. With dark eyes and light complexion, he definitely looked like similar to his famous ancestor. If only he had the same wits and ability...

"Red," Ashton starts, folding his hands. "As much as I appreciate you volunteering for this mission, you must realize the outcome of this. Do you realize have a squad to lead? Your sister, Alma; what about her?"

The Vice General had known the Mustang family for as long as he held said rank, which was now stretching into its thirteenth year. He'd been close with the Alliance's leader, High General Haddon Mustang and his wife Carina, having been friends for years. He'd watched as their two children grew up to the current day. Now, one of those children sat across from him.

"She...she has you...and Mom..." Redford hesitates, tapping a finger to his chin."And my squad...they..." The teen goes silent for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. "They'll let me go, as long as I come back."

A chuckle escaped Ashton's mouth, nodding his head. His answer was definitely something he expected. "Why I am not surprised…" he mutters to himself, smiling.

Redford Mustang had always been compared to his ancestors, especially to that of the Alliance's second High General Roy Mustang. While a some-what impressive alchemist, noting with how dangerous the science was nowadays, the boy was constantly put down. He used the same style of alchemy his entire family did; fire alchemy, and he even used the same style gloves Roy had used in the past. Never, at least when Ashton was around, was Redford not compared to somebody from his famous family. Every action the boy did was almost always noted and tallied. He was constantly told of the shoes he was expected to fill; the ones both his father and other ancestors wore.

Redford's squad was among the few people who saw Redford for who he was; a boy who was just trying to achieve without help from his family's legacy. The squad was letting Redford go to find that; the success in completing a dangerous mission labeled by most as a suicide mission. If Redford would go, he had to come back, not only because he had people here (while numbered) who cared for him, but to succeed in something no one else in his family (or anyone) had done would be huge.

Looking the teen straight in the eye, Ashton was stoic as he barked. "Squad Leader Mustang!"

Redford jumps from his chair, standing at attention. He was no longer nervous, and stood confidently in front of his superior. "Yes, sir!"

The Vice General turns in his chair, searching through all sorts of files. Finding a single fairly thick folder, the older man places it on his desk with a loud thump. The red letters on the top read one word: Constricted: Elite Only.

"This is your new mission. Read it over. You leave in three hours."

Looking at the folder, Redford's eyes widen and a small smile began to form the edges of his mouth. He doesn't let it get to him though, and snatches up the thick folder, tucking it under his left arm. He keeps the side with the letters covered with his body; he didn't dare want anybody starting rumors.

Keeping his excitement at bay, Redford respectfully addresses his superior in thanks.

"Yes sir!"

* * *

 **Ah, this story is something that came from ideas from years past and was revisited thanks to my beta Dawnmoon76. Hopefully everything will go okay. I appreciate any suggestions, reviews, anything really!**

 **Chapter 1 will be up soon (hopefully, if life goes as planned). See you guys!**

 **Note: 'Dracreis' (from the summary) is the combo name of Drachma, Creta, and Amestris. You'll sorta figure out why next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 1

_**Alright, Chapter 1 of SomH is finally done. Kudos to my awesome beta Dawnmoon76 for helping me after all this time, especially in between me writing this and my own original story (the first two chapters of which are out on FictionPress, Wattpad, and Figment under the username Beansprout Midget)**_

 _ **lilaclilly60: Hey! Long time no see my friend! I'm glad you decided to pop back in and read this rewrite of a rewrite of my first fic (maybe you remember it). Appreciate seeing your review; It made my day!**_

 _ **Disclaimers: FMA isn't mine, obviously. So I don't own any of the characters from the manga/anime/games/any other assorted FMA media. I only own...about seven characters in this story.**_

 ** _Chapter 1: Mission_**

The first thing Redford's squad saw once he returned from his meeting was the file tucked neatly against his body. They didn't even say a word; they just pointed towards the file or cheered.

Hearing the door slam shut behind him, Red slowly strolls over to his waiting squad members, who had been sitting in the living area of their room. A smile slowly expands onto his face, as he takes the file from under his arm and places it down on the coffee table in the middle of the group.

"He really let you have it…" one of the members, a shorter boy with narrow-rimmed glasses remarks, peering over at the file in awe. "Ashton really gave you the mission?"

The first member of the squad was Lieve Hagens. While the youngest of the bunch at fourteen, usually he had the most level-headed views of the bunch, and acted more as a supporter towards his offensive-heavy team. As a huge opponent of rule-breaking of any sorts, the 'Beanie' as he was often referred to was very conflicted once he'd heard Red would try and apply for one of three 'Constricted' missions. But, he had faith in his leader, and now he couldn't believe that Redford had been able to obtain that file.

Even Redford himself was still surprised, looking over to his friend and nodding his head. "Yeah. I couldn't believe it either."

"I can!" another member, a blonde-haired girl with long pigtails chirps. "He's one of the few people who can see Red for who he is. He saw Red offer to take this solo mission…and…"

The sole girl on the team, Felice Romana Montague was always the life of the group. She always walked about the base with a smile on her face, and was well-known for her spunky and out-going personality…and the constant chatter that tended to come with it.

"Wait wait wait," the last member, a darker-skinned boy says. He holds his hands up in confusion. "This is a SOLO mission? Since when?!"

"Since always, Blitz," everyone mumbles in a seemingly-unsurprising tone, looking over towards the last member. Blitz was the oldest member of the group at seventeen, and acted as the sort of 'muscle man'. While he was strong and fit, his selective hearing was something his friends had never exactly gotten used too.

Redford's squad included the three other people besides Red himself. Often regarded as one of the weaker ones in the eastern division of the Alliance, Red and his fellow recruits were like a small surrogate family. After all, they spent more time together than at their own homes, or even with their biological families sometimes.

"I don't have time to waste, either," Red adds, reaching back over and picking up his file. "I'm reading this, and I'm heading out within the next few hours."

This reaches the ears of his friends, and causes them all to go silent.

"You're leaving today?!" Felice asks loudly. She was shocked; it was obvious in her expression. In fact, it was obvious to all three of the members.

Redford pauses, trying to figure out what to say. He hadn't expected to get the mission in the first place, much less obtain it and start it within the day. In fact, that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "I…I guess I am…"

"But your mother," Lieve comments, "And Alma! What's she going to say?"

Redford was very close to his squad mates just as he was to his own family. His mother, a former nurse, had met his father while treating him in a hospital. Yet, after he disappeared, Red's mother became more conservative, and silently prayed everyday for her children to live to the next day. She'd pray even if Redford wasn't being deployed for battle, or to just allow her daughter to live. With how fearful she became, Red knew almost immediately this would be one of the hardest things for him to tell his mother. Maybe not even his mother, but also his sister; she'd probably cry once she found out.

"I…I guess I didn't think that far ahead…" Red admits sheepishly. "But, knowing Alma, she'll be fine no matters what happens to me."

That was something everyone knew about Red; he rarely thought about future possibilities. He usually was so concerned with the events occurring around him that he always forgot to think what his actions would result in. He didn't think he'd actually receive the 'Constricted' mission; he didn't plan on it. So, when he did receive it, his mind went completely blank, and no idea what to do next.

"Agh, Redford Mustang! You need to have more confidence in yourself!" Blitz scolds his leader, horseshoeing him with his arm and rubbing him across the head with the other. Annoyed, Red tries to break from his friend, but is unable to do so. Felice and Lieve just begin to laugh in response, which catches on to the other two.

Soon, all four members are laughing.

"This is the last time we'll be together for a while, huh?" Lieve remarks, silencing the room pretty quickly. As the realization hits everybody, the tone of the room grows somber, and Blitz lets go of Red, allowing him to stand back on the floor.

Quietly, the squad leader reaches back over and grabs his mission file, gripping it tightly. He turns back to his silent friends, and can only greet them with a sad smile.

"I guess I'll go read the briefing then…" he says simply, trying to hide the sadness that he'd begun to feel. He quietly leaves his friends and walks over towards the large bedroom all four members shared. "I'll see you when I'm done."

 **xX x x X x x xX x xX x xX x x xX x xX x x Xx X**

Entering the room, Red throws the file onto his bottom bunk bed, and sits down beside it. Undoing the small ponytail, he lets his hair down as he runs a single hand through it. He had a lot on his mind; he'd have to find time between reading the briefing, gathering his things, and preparing his goodbyes.

After all, there was still no guarantee he'd make it out alive. In fact, it leaned more towards him dying.

But, he had the faith of his teammates. He wanted to succeed so badly, but it made him worrisome.

Taking in a deep breath, the teen slaps his face a few times to wake himself up from his emotional woes, and put focus back towards the job at hand.

Grabbing the file, Red moves it onto his lap, fingers rubbing across the red 'Constricted' text. He flips open the file, and is greeted with a large stack of papers, the first page being cover in black lines.

That was never a good sign.

An eye darting across the paper, Redford tries to find any cohesive words in between the top-secret black lines. Those covered up 'top secret' or 'secured' information. Things normally withheld for only certain eyes.

Swallowing down a wave of insecurity, Red continues looking through the file for information. Yet, he keeps coming across the same result; one or two words, followed by lines and lines of black.

The prior information Redford, or any person currently stationed in the eastern headquarters of the Alliance, knew about this mission was limited. It was known for sure it would be a first-of-its-kind mission, and because of its difficulty, required somebody with experience in tracking and undercover operations.

Those were two things the young Mustang didn't have; he'd never been given an undercover assignment or mission in his life. That was normally left for Felice; tracking and searching was usually something Lieve took upon himself. Of course, because he was at a disadvantage, Redford believed if he managed to succeed in something nowhere near his strengths, people could see his skills and who he was as a person. After all, what person would take on such a dangerous task that involved skills they weren't strong in?

Suddenly, while flipping through page after page of useless words, Red finds a small paper, folded quite neatly and tucked into the folds of a packet. He removes it and begins unfolding it, noting no visible black lines.

Once unfolded, it reveals a clean briefing paper; yet instead of a whole packet or multiple papers, it was just the one piece of paper.

At the top, the basic information was written in, all done ahead of time by Vice General Ashton. Red scans the paper, and quickly finds in a small, italicized print:

 ** _Mission Title_** _:_ _Recovery Operations/Elric_

Red almost drops the paper back into the file. A recovery operation? Who had they lost? When did it hap-

"Wait…"

Many recovery operations happened all of the time; to rescue daring alchemists who went against the ways of the Dracreians. To save injured or important personnel who'd accidentally been caught in the cross fire.

How was this a first-of-its-kind mission?

Then, after re-reading it, Red picks up on the last part of the title.

Elric; what was 'Elric'?

Was it a name? A specific person? A place? Maybe it was a secret word, or a password? Maybe the letters were all mixed up and had to be rearranged to spell something?

Either way, whatever word was, Red had never heard of it in his life. In his now fifteen years, never once had he heard of a someone or something named 'Elric'.

Looking back at the paper, Redford can't help but shake the feeling he'd been kept out of the loop; only now being allowed in. Moving past the name, he reads on to other important information listed on the paper.

 ** _Mission Length_** : _Three months_

 _ **Required skills:** Basic survival skills, ability to blend and trace others, great alchemical abilities and ingenuity._

Looking at the facts, Redford shakes his head. While he was a battle-proven alchemist, there were many out there better than him. However, Ashton had allowed him to take up the mission; that mean he believed in Red and his abilities, and that they were fine for the mission.

 ** _Summary of Mission :_** _Go down to the lowest level in the base by elevator, you'll find a keypad sitting on the doors. Pin's 31011. I'll be waiting for you; You'll find out the mission down there. Just say your goodbyes and relax for now, Red. If anyone asks, the only information you may give out is the mission length._

Reading the summary, Red is shocked. He hadn't expected something like this, especially from Ashton. In fact, it we're as if he'd been planning on Red to come for this mission…

Red takes another deep breath, folds the paper back up, and instead places it towards the front of the file.

"Elric…" he mutters, still hung over that weird word. Leaning back onto his mattress, the teen can't shake the idea from his head that maybe he had heard it before, from somewhere or somebody. As if he should know what it was; what it stood for, if it stood for anything. But he didn't.

Well, if there was one thing, this 'Elric' had to be a person. Recovery operations were strictly for people; any other sorts of recovery jobs not concerning humans were put in a different category. The title did say 'Recovery Operations'.

Of course, then the question turned from 'what' to 'who'. Who was this 'Elric' person, and why were they important enough to warrant such a secret and dangerous mission from the Alliance? If they were a higher ranking military officer or family of one, Red and probably every other person in the ranks surely would have heard of it by now.

Realizing how far his mind had stretched from a single thought, the teen shakes his head, as if to clear his head from his thoughts. He'd been going out on crazy ideas and asking random, unnecessary questions. Surely they'd be answered in his real briefing in a few hours…

Closing his eyes, Red lets out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding in. Only one question remains in his mind;

What in the world had he gotten himself into?

 _ **x xX x x xX x xX x x xX x xX x xX x x**_

For the rest of the day, Redford had to do a lot of consoling.

His mother and younger sister, Alma, were not living in the base he was stationed in. Normally, Red stayed stationed at the central headquarters, where he lived for most of his life. Yet, he and his team were reassigned within the past month to one of the eastern branches, where he now currently resided. His mother had been so worried, and feared he wouldn't be coming home; of course, Redford had assured her he would be.

Yet, once he told her he'd be leaving for three months on a secret mission and _without_ his squad, she almost broke down crying on the other side of the line. She almost screamed through the phone, begging him not to go. She didn't though; after all, Alma was sleeping. Red almost asked his mother to wake her up; he didn't dare want to leave without saying goodbye to his little sister.

Alma Mustang was the real prodigy child of the family; everybody knew it, but nobody said it. Red knew from the first day or two she'd read his stolen advanced alchemy books she would be great. She could recite every known element, solve complicated equations in her head, and loved reading about alchemy (really anything in general). There were already whispers throughout the Alliance to have her become the next High General instead of Red.

But, she was only eight; Red swore he'd never let her get involved in the war. She didn't deserve it; in fact, nobody did. This war, the war against the Dracreis Empire, was tiresome and extended from their greedy emperor's wish. He wanted the former country of Amestris and their knowledge of alchemy for himself.

After talking for roughly thirty minutes of the phone, Red managed to convince his mother he would be coming home, safe and sound, in three months. It took all of her might, he knew, for his mother to say 'Okay. Stay safe, and come home soon.' In the calm tone she did.

Now, Redford stood in the base's elevator, descending down who knew how many feet below ground. He now had a duffle bag slung over his right shoulder, packed with his basic necessities. Clothes, water, food, the mission file, a picture of his family and his squad-mates, two books, and a spare notebook with pencils and pens. Whatever happened to him, he wanted to record it for the future, should anyone find it.

Adjusting his forest green uniform jacket, he stands tall, staring straight ahead at the closed doors in front of him. Yet, underneath this, the teen knew; he was scared. He was scared and nervous and whatever other word could describe how he felt.

Looking down at his own hand, Red notices how much it was shaking. The idea of him dying on this mission, whatever it truly was, scared him. He'd grown up around warzones and death his entire life, but rarely did he shake this much in fear.

Was it that?

Was it a fear of death?

"Nobody said I was dying…" he mutters to himself, trying to soothe his nerves. "It wasn't labeled as a suicide mission. It was a recovery mission. A special, one-of-a-kind-mission…"

He had the faith of his friends, and the prayers of his family. He even had the faith and trust of Vice General Ashton; if HE didn't believe in Redford to return alive, there was no way he'd be given this mission.

Just then, the elevator jolts to a stop, snapping Red from his thoughts. The doors open with a small ding, and he steps out into a hallway surrounded by metal. All four sides of the hallway had some sort of material in them; rectangular lights sit in the ceiling, giving out an eerie light.

"This is it, huh…" he mutters, beginning down the hallway quietly. His footsteps echo in the narrow stretch, and he begins to grip onto his bag's strap tighter. "This is the Basement?"

Each base in the Alliance had what the enlisted called the 'Basement'. Usually, all sorts of technology and scientific tests were performed here to try out new equipment, all in the hopes of using the new stuff to take down the enemy.

However, it was always out of the way or sometimes completely separate from the rest of the base in an effort to keep soldiers out of harm's way. And, in Red's case, his base had their 'Basement' almost twenty levels underneath the closest level above it.

Soon, the teen spots a door at the end of the hallway. A large keypad sits in the center of the two doors, acting as a large lock. Once he reaches it, he quickly types in the code that was written on the briefing sheet:

 _3-10-11_

Two lights above the lock blink green, and inside the doors the sound of lock coming undone occurs. The two large doors open automatically, revealing another hallway slightly different than the one the teen currently stood in. Walking through the doorway and past the doors, he stopped about halfway through the new hallway. With a large swing, the doors close behind him.

Red looks back behind him, at the back of the doors. "No going back now, huh?" he muttered to himself, smiling weakly. He then noted the large panels of glass making up sides of the hallway's walls.

Going up to the glass, he looked out beyond the hallway he stood in. What he saw took his breath away, even if it was just for a moment.

The hallway Red currently stood in was three stories up from the floor of the Basement. Looking down from where he was, he could see all sorts of cables, monitors, and all sorts of mechanical materials scattered across the main, circular room. Curious, Red moved over towards the other side of the hallway, finding large vehicles and weapons and being tinkered with. People wearing white uniforms bearing a familiar blue cross hurried about both sides of the room, yelling and shouting while also remaining focused.

Withholding his awe, Red continued onward. He marched through the hallway, where he found a staircase leading downward; to the main area he'd seen through the windows above. Since he had no idea where he'd have to go to find out the rest of his mission, Red began his descent down the stairs.

By the time the Mustang managed to get to the main level of the Basement, he'd spent at least five minutes trying to get to the bottom. Within seconds of reaching the bottom, it became obvious Red was the oddball out, and even garnered some unwanted attention and curious expressions. Maybe it was the dark green jacket, signifying his position as a front-line fighter versus a support position like everyone around him. Maybe it was because they recognized him as the son of the former leader of the Alliance.

Either way, it was obvious that he was being singled out.

Ignoring them, Red just moved past the stares and started searching for Vice General Ashton. Red had to assume his superior was going to meet him down here; it was his handwriting on the briefing sheet, after all, that he had too.

Luckily for him that doesn't take long, as he suddenly spotted the general from behind, and raced over towards him. Ashton noticed, and let out a small smile as he greeted the teen.

"You've found your way down here okay?" the general asks Red, trying to engage in conversation.

Red simply nods his head. "It was okay. I almost turned around a few times, but…" it takes another deep breath for him to calm his nerves again. "I'm here."

 _ **xX x xX x xX x xX x xX x x**_

How many rooms could really be hidden underground?

That's what Red couldn't help but ask himself as he was ushered into another hallway, down another flight of stairs, and around two corners before arriving at yet another large room.

Yet, the first thing that caught the teen's eyes was the large, circular hole in the square-shaped room.

Second was the small group of people gathered inside, seeming to have been waiting for Red to arrive. They hovered around the entrance, some excited and others passing whispers about. One or two remained on some sort of equipment, held up by large stands and ladders. They all wore the same white coats, however, and seemed to stare straight at him.

"Vice General," Redford begins, stealing another glance at the wide but shallow hole in the floor. It wasn't deep; maybe two or three feet. "What is all this?"

The Vice General, whom the teen had been following, slowly stopped in front of another door. Yup, it led to another small room; however it was quickly obvious to Red through the glass window it was a briefing room of sorts. It even had the Alliance's symbol emblazoned on the board, where usually tactical and basic instructions were posted.

"I'll answer your question, but please," Ashton opened the door, motioning for Red to walk inside. "It must be in secrecy."

Looking back at the gathering of workers towards the front, Red shudders a bit as he watches them turn back to their work. This was it; he was about to receive his mission. Once he did; there would be no turning back, no running, no anything.

He'd have to continue forward, on his own.

"Alright."

Quietly, the two soldiers filed into the small room, revealing only two tables and four chairs in the entire room. A small podium stood at the front of the room, also bearing the symbol of the Alliance, but beyond that the heavy walls locked Red in from the outside world.

The room went dark, thanks to Ashton's closing of the window blinds, and a small light from a projector is instead lit.

"Please sit, Squadron 14 Leader Redford Mustang."

Noting how Ashton had addressed him by his full title, Red nodded and quickly takes a spot at the front table, removing his bag from his shoulder and placing it in the seat beside him. The little projector box sat on the other side of the bag, shining up onto the board and, ultimately, the tall structure that was Vice General Ashton.

"Redford Mustang, it has been brought to my attention that you know Amestrian history very well," The General begins, talking strictly and with no expression seen to his face. Red silently rolls his eyes; sure he did. He had to know; it was something he'd grown up being taught almost twenty-four-seven. What leader didn't know about the legacy of their countrymen and the mistakes and achievements made?

"Yes, sir," Red tries to reply politely.

"What do you about the current war we are fighting in? Why did it start?"

Redford lets out a silent sigh. It was a basic question; every person, no matter what side of the war they were on, knew the answer. "Following the events of the Promised Day in Amestris, neighboring country Drachma decided to take the chance and launched a successful invasion on a broken Amestris, as well as an unstable Creta to its southwest. With Amestris being completely blindsided, as well as recovering from a national crisis, they didn't stand a chance; Creta, while stronger, was taken down thanks to spy networks. Within weeks the countries were absorbed into Drachma, and formed the new Dracreis Empire."

"Soon, alchemy was taken away from the lands and was outlawed to be practiced freely; one had to become registered and taught under the ways of Dracreis to become an alchemist, or risk harsh punishment or death. Former State Alchemists of Amestris were told to either pledge their allegiance to Dracreis to keep their ability and title, or completely forgo it. Many did exactly that.

"Slowly, a rebellion was building between the former Cretans and Amestrians, who wished for their freedoms back. After about four years of building, stockpiling, and planning, an attack was launched directly at the Dracreians. This, while unofficial, was the beginning of the Freedom Wars, the wars we are still fighting."

Ashton listened very carefully to Redford's plain explanation. He nodded his head every so often, agreeing with the teen's answer. He looked quite proud; hearing how quick Redford was able to tell all of that information like it was written down.

"Very good, very good; what about the Fullmetal Alchemist? What do you know about him?"

Red sunk into his seat. What was this, a history quiz? "The Fullmetal Alchemist is, first off, the founder of the Freedom Alliance. He fought during the Promised Day, where he fought off the deadly Father and managed to save the country from utter annihilation. He was also well known for being one of the few recorded alchemists in history to have been able to perform alchemical transmutations without transmutation circles, a feat he put to good use on the battlefield. Because of his quick transitions and wit, as well as his physical abilities, he became the most feared person during his time in the war, and helped lead the Alliance through many victories.

"Yet, during the Battle of Liore Shrine, he turned himself over to the Dracreis government in 'equivalent exchange' for every man they had taken captive from the Alliance to be set free. He was quietly taken away, and did not resist. He was not seen alive again by any Alliance members, and a body was never found," Red tenses slightly, knowing the sensitive topic that was being mentioned. "Despite numerous efforts by the Alliance to search for one."

Following the death of the Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy Mustang was assigned the leader of the Alliance; he then launched an investigation and sent many people to try and bring the former State Alchemist's body home. Supposedly, Roy even sent a letter directly to the Emperor at the time, asking for the body in return; the only response the Alliance got was a pile of dead innocent villagers from a nearby town.

Ashton, again, looks very pleased with the teen's answer. "Yes, yes…" He stopped his pacing, landing right beside the projector.

Yet, in an instant, that emotion melts away.

"But you don't know that half of it."

The comment stroke Red as surprising. He sat up taller in his seat, confusion beginning to swirl in his mind.

"Excuse me?" Red asked, hoping for clarification.

"Redford, you were taught the basics of alchemy, correct? It's two main laws?"

Without any hesitation or filter, the teen automatically answers: "The Law of Conservation of Mass, and the Law of Equivalent Exchange."

"Very good," Ashton remarks, making no note of Red's sudden answer. "You were told that in order to receive, something had to be taken of equal value?"

Despite how he'd reworded it, Red nodded his head. He knew some older alchemists in the ranks, the high-ranking ones, which almost lived their lives by Equivalent Exchange.

"So would you say, in return for obtaining heat, you would give up the cold?"

Redford stared a head quietly, trying to make do of the general's words. "I-I guess…" he admitted. Normally when he thought about Equivalent Exchange, he tended to think more of a physical feature; blocks of clay being turned into a vase versus something like temperature. This was something different.

What did it have to do with his mission though?

"Would you also say that in return for one's good behavior, they'd be given something?"

Again, Red nods his head.

"So if I were to say that in return for one's bad behavior, they'd be losing something. Would that follow the law of Equivalent Exchange?"

Red hesitantly agrees. "As long as the 'something' the person lost was equal to the behavior or actions performed, possibly…" He added, not really sure if he was right.

Liking his response, Ashton smiled and turned to the board behind him. Picking up a piece of chalk, he drew two fairly even circles, intersecting one another. "Now, what if we applied this on a bigger scale?"

"Would Equivalent Exchange apply if, say, in return for a country's rude behavior, they were fined or punished for that behavior?"

Red was almost speechless. "M-Maybe-"

But the general goes on. "Would it apply if a continent, no, an entire world had caused such a huge wrong something was taken from it response?"

Now the teen _was_ speechless. "A-An entire WORLD? As in a planet? Sir, I don't think….what event would cause so much chaos across the planet that something equal to the chaos could be taken away? It's too big to possibly even think about! It'd be catastrophic!"

Ashton takes a deep breath, eyes still narrow but stern and strict. His smile was gone again, now a straight line. But before he could even speak again, Red spoke up.

"Sir, how does this even relate to my mission? How do hypothetical alchemic ideals like this apply–?"

Ashton silently placed the chalk back on the tray lining the board. His face remained the same stoic expression, yet this time with more solidity. "New ideas are always being thrown around by those in the science field; how did the universe form, if there's even a god...if alchemy exists beyond this world…"

Red looked at his superior officer in confusion and surprise. What did he mean 'this world'? Was he referring the afterlife or something? And since when was Ashton so invested in such things like scientific theories; he wasn't involved with alchemy or any sort of study field.

Now the teen was getting a little annoyed. It was as if Ashton was just beating around the bush. Couldn't he just give him a straight briefing?

"Beyond this world? General, can you please just tell me my mission? What it involves, what it's for, how it involves this 'Elric' name?"

Ashton takes a hesitant breath. It was obvious the next words he had to say were hard; he always took a deep breath and closed his eyes before something so serious. He did it when he told Red and his family about the disappearance of his father; he even did it before certain speeches and before assigning certain men to suicide mission.

"Redford Mustang, have you heard of a parallel world?"


End file.
